"My lord!"
Louis' expression lit up the moment he saw Mika approaching him. Without hesitation, he abandoned Arthur, who was halfway through an extensive explanation about knight duties. Arthur barely had time to process it before Louis was already beside Mika, standing far too close, as usual.
The royal captain let out a weary sigh, watching his supposed trainee walk off mid-sentence, but Louis had zero regrets.
"Louis. How's your night?" Mika asked, seemingly unaware of how alarmingly close Louis was standing.
"My night?" Louis blinked, pausing to remember. Then—his face darkened.
Memories of last night came rushing back, and immediately, Louis glared daggers at the royal captain.
"Honestly, nights in the underground arena are quieter."
Mika raised an eyebrow as Louis grimaced, his entire body visibly rejecting the mere thought of what he endured.
Arthur had talked the entire night. Without stopping.
Louis had laid on the floor, staring at the ceiling, waiting—praying—for him to fall asleep.
It took five hours.
Five long hours.
"I can't believe someone can talk for five hours about horses."
Mika sweatdropped slightly, sympathizing with Louis' suffering—but only for a moment. He waved a hand dismissively, making a casual decision.
"Tonight, you stay in my room."
Truthfully, Mika just needed Louis nearby. It was safer. It was reassuring having a fighter beside him. That was all.
Unfortunately, Louis completely misunderstood.
His eyes widened slightly, a faint hitch in his breath before he lowered his gaze, deep in thought.
'He wants me in his room?'
His mind spiraled instantly.
'He wants me to sleep with him?! No, no—that's not right...'
Louis opened his eyes, his gaze settling on the back of Mika's head, his expression serious.
'He wants to show everyone who I belong to. Mika... you're bolder than I thought.'
Arthur let out a sigh as he watched the two. Children. He thought fondly, shaking his head before stepping toward the third prince and his bodyguard.
"Well, enough about me—"
"It's nothing about you."
Louis cut him off immediately, but Arthur only laughed.
"Mika, have you ever considered taking sword lessons?" Arthur asked, his voice casual.
"Never."
Mika shut him down without hesitation, his answer firm.
Arthur chuckled, shaking his head. "Figures. The king never picked up sword lessons either, you know."
That made both Mika and Louis pause. Confusion flickered across their faces as they turned to him, waiting for clarification.
Arthur smirked at their reactions, a glint of amusement in his eyes. "The king is actually a mage. Zane is more mage than swordsman."
Louis' eyes widened slightly in shock.
"The king... is a mage?"
He hadn't expected that. No one had ever mentioned it before. In the stories, the king was always depicted as a fearsome warrior, cutting down enemies with a single swing of his blade—a ruler who fought on the battlefield, drenched in blood and glory.
But reality was different.
"Yeees~ Uncle Zane is a mageeee~"
Cyrus' voice suddenly cut through the conversation, his arms wrapping tightly around Mika before Louis could react.
Louis' expression darkened instantly, but Cyrus ignored him completely, rubbing his cheek against Mika's hair with far too much enthusiasm.
"Youuuu know, Uncle Zane's magic is soooo beautiful~ He showed me once—he made a field of my favorite floweeer~"
Cyrus sighed dreamily, clearly reminiscing, before lifting his gaze over his shoulder. His tone shifted, turning teasing.
"Too bad thaaaat only Luna and Sol inherited Uncle Zane's maaaagic~"
Mika raised an eyebrow, following Cyrus' gaze—his eyes widened slightly when he noticed Kyle and Kyre standing nearby.
Kyle's gaze was icy, sharp as a blade, glaring at the group in silent disapproval.
Kyre, in contrast, looked bored, his fingers lazily twirling a strand of his hair, his posture indifferent—as if he wasn't interested in whatever was happening before him.
Yet despite their differences—
Both carried an undeniable presence.
A presence Mika couldn't ignore.
"Maaaybe Mika too haaave magic~"
Cyrus' teasing tone only thickened the suffocating tension, as if he were purposefully pouring gasoline onto an already burning fire.
Kyle's eye twitched slightly at Cyrus' words, his grip tightening around his sword before he began walking toward the group.
Louis reacted instantly, stepping in front of Mika, ready to defend his master—but to his surprise, Kyle walked past them without a second glance.
Instead, he stopped in front of the row of training swords.
Without hesitation, Kyle grabbed one, then threw it toward Louis.
Louis easily caught it, his grip steady, but his gaze sharpened as he looked down at the wooden sword in his hand—then back at Kyle, who had set his own sword aside and picked up a matching wooden one.
"Raise your sword," Kyle's voice grew colder, his tone demanding as he turned to glare at Louis.
Louis hesitated for a brief moment.
As much as he wanted to smash Kyle's face in, the reality remained—Kyle was still a prince of this country.
Raising his sword against him, especially when Louis held no official position in the palace, was practically asking for a death sentence.
His grip tightened around the sword.
Then, slowly, Louis glanced at Mika, silently seeking guidance from his master.
Mika held Kyle's gaze for a few moments, his expression unreadable.
Then, he closed his eyes, considering the challenge.
The silence stretched—until Mika finally opened his eyes again, decision made.
"Louis."
Mika's commanding voice made Louis immediately stand straight, his attention locked onto his master.
"Don't embarrass me."
With that, Mika turned and began walking toward Arthur, who stood at the sidelines, watching them with a smirk.
Louis stared at the back of Mika's head, his expression shifting as he processed the words.
Then, after a brief pause—he bowed his head.
"I wouldn't, my lord."
Louis turned to face Kyle, fingers tightening around the wooden sword handle as he raised it.
Mika had given him permission.
And that meant everything.
Now, with his lord's command, nothing was holding him back. He could fight Kyle without hesitation, as Mika's vessel.
Kyle stepped forward, spinning his sword once before lunging at Louis without warning, swinging his blade fast and precise.
Louis blocked the strike, but the sheer force pushed him back, his heels skidding slightly across the ground.
'As expected of the prince—'
Louis' lips curled slightly, not in excitement, but in understanding.
This was different from fighting Arthur.
Arthur was controlled, a knight trained to protect. His strikes held discipline, backed by years of experience.
But Kyle?
Louis felt it immediately.
The aggression.
The hunger to dominate.
Yet—beneath it, there was something else.
A lingering desperation to protect, tightly woven into his movements.
Louis' grip shifted slightly, adapting—then, with a quick motion, he shoved Kyle's sword away before raising his leg, aiming a sharp kick to his midsection.
Kyle's eyes narrowed, his reaction immediate—he jumped back, avoiding the strike with practiced precision.
But Louis didn't let him breathe.
He closed the gap instantly, his next attack already in motion before Kyle could even fully land from his dodge.
Their swords collided, the relentless clash echoing through the training grounds, each strike more calculated than the last.
"Woooah~ I caaan't believe it~ Louis is holding his ground against Kyle!"
Cyrus' amused voice rang out, arms still draped lazily around Mika, pressing against the third prince like this was just another day in the palace.
Kyle slid back, his stance shifting—his expression unreadable.
Then—his lips twitched slightly.
Not frustration.
Not irritation.
Something else.
Something far more dangerous.
Without a single word, Kyle lowered his sword, rolling his wrist as he twisted the handle slightly—
Then, a faint glow wrapped itself around the wooden blade, pulsing, radiating something unnatural.
Louis' fingers tightened around his own weapon instantly.
He felt it.
The shift.
The unseen pressure around them.
"That—"
Mika's eyes widened sharply.
"Louis, duck!"
Louis' muscles tensed, his instincts screaming at him—
Then—
His hair moved.
Not from the wind.
Not from his own movement.
It lifted slightly—pulled by something unseen, something unnatural.
A warning.
A terrible one.
Louis dropped instantly, his body hitting the ground just as Kyle swung his sword—
The air split apart, slicing through space with a violent whistle, sharp enough to tear through the ground itself—
Then—
Glass exploded.
The windows shattered violently, fragments scattering through the air in a glittering cascade.
A deep slash carved through the building behind Louis, splitting through solid material like paper beneath a blade.
Everything fell into silence.
Louis slowly pushed himself to his knees, his gaze locked onto the building, eyes slightly widened. His mind raced, searching—grasping—for a possible explanation for what had just happened.
But nothing came to mind.
He had never seen an attack like that before.
"That's sword aura."
Mika was the first to speak, his calm voice cutting through the tension. Louis turned to him, confusion flickering across his face.
"Sword aura?"
Louis looked completely lost.
In the underground, strength and brute force were all he knew.
There was no room for fancy techniques, no elegant strikes—just raw power, just survival.
"You… do you have any knowledge about magic?"
Kyle's voice broke through, the prince lowering his sword, as if the fight no longer interested him.
"...I never had the chance to learn." Louis answered honestly.
Kyle stared at him, silent for a moment. Then, with a brief glance at Mika, he sighed, crossing his arms over his chest.
"Listen, I'll simplify this for you." His tone was cold, dismissive—but not cruel.
"That's because I don't want someone like you to embarrass yourself."
Cyrus' smile widened as he suddenly dragged Mika forward, practically pulling him along with childlike excitement.
"Ahaha~ Let meeee explain it toooo~!"
Cyrus released Mika, now standing beside Kyle, his expression playful as he turned to Louis.
"Louis, do you know anything about Revenge?"
Louis furrowed his eyebrows, confusion deepening.
"Revenge?"
Kyle sighed, rubbing his temple.
"Haaah… Did you live under a rock or something?" Kyle shook his head, then pointed at his lower belly.
"Revenge is every human's Core. It's what allows mages to use magic, and swordsmen to use Aura."
"Yeeep~ Aura is specificly foooor swordmen, sooo mages can't use it—unless they're a Swordmage."
Cyrus giggled, twirling a strand of Mika's hair before continuing.
"Like what Kyleee did earlier~ That was sword auraaa~! By channeling his Aura around his sword, he cut through space and willed the hallucination into existence."
Kyle's eyes remained cold, unreadable as he finally spoke again.
"If you're a swordsman, that means you have Aura. You just need to will your attack into existence."
"But youuuuu have tooo be careful~!" Cyrus sang out, suddenly changing his tone, making both Mika and Louis look at him in confusion.
"As much as every swordsman depends on Aura, you neeeed to be mindful of the exchange~!"
Louis and Mika exchanged glances, their brows furrowing.
"Exchange?"
Cyrus and Kyle shared a look—Cyrus now looking shocked, while Kyle looked utterly disgusted.
"Are you dumb?" Kyle's voice was sharp, his glare piercing. "Did you seriously not know about Karmic Exchange?"
"Now, now~" Cyrus giggled, patting Kyle's shoulder lightly.
"Give theeem a break~! Maybeee they never had the chance to learn iiiit~!"
With a cheerful hum, Cyrus moved behind Mika, his fingers sliding down Mika's stomach before stopping at his lower belly.
"Everything we do in this world is not free~!"
Cyrus patted Mika's lower belly, right where the Revenge Core rested. "Every action we make is recorded~!"
"If youuuu do good, then you'll be able to use holy magic~!" Cyrus made an 'X' mark on Mika's lower belly with his fingers.
"But if youuuu do bad, then you're doomed to only use cursed magic~!"
"It's the same with Aura~!"
"If you do bad, your Aura is meant to kill, not protect~!"
"...So it's just like Equivalent Exchange?" Mika muttered, his eyes narrowing slightly.
He hadn't known that.
The author had never mentioned how the system of this world worked.
This was new to him.
"Yeees~!"
Cyrus clapped his hands, clearly pleased by Mika's comparison.
"But instead of things around us, it's our actions~!"
Kyle shoved the wooden sword into Cyrus' hands before turning away, grabbing his own weapon with an irritated flick of his wrist.
"Tch. Waste of time." His grip tightened on his sword as his gaze shifted coldly toward Louis.
"Learn how to control your Aura first."
Then, with no hesitation—
Kyle stared Louis down, his voice sharp as a blade.
"Unless you want your master to die because of your incompetence."
The words hit hard, but Louis didn't flinch.
Instead—he gritted his teeth, anger simmering under his skin.
Kyle wasn't wrong.
This wasn't the underground, where brute force and survival dictated strength.
This was a world where power had shape, where warriors wielded forces beyond their own physical limits—where people stronger than him existed everywhere.
Louis clenched his fist, standing up and facing Kyle again.
"That won't happen."
Kyle held his gaze for a long, silent moment.
Then—
He scoffed, crossing his arms.
"Hmph. Three months."
His tone sharpened, like a warning rather than an offer.
"After three months—if you keep being this weak, it's better if he takes someone from the palace as his bodyguard."
Louis tensed slightly.
He?
Cyrus' smile twisted mischievously, his tone practically dripping with amusement as he leaned in.
"Eeeeh~ Don't tell me~ Youuuu actually worry aboooout Mika?"
The moment the words left Cyrus' mouth—
Kyle stiffened.
Completely.
Like a frozen statue.
His entire face turned bright red, his ears burning.
For a split second, the composed, sharp-tongued prince disappeared.
Then—
"Huh?! No way! Like hell I care about that thing!"
Kyle snapped, his cold attitude melting into complete flustered rage as he turned on his heel, stomping away like an angry child.
"COME, KYRE!"
Kyre didn't react immediately, as if debating whether to obey.
But after a short pause, he let out a quiet sigh, adjusting his coat before following after his older twin without a word.
Mika sweatdropped, watching the scene unfold.
'What are you, a Tsundere?'